


Wheelbarrow'ed

by SerenaScarlet



Series: Spellbound [2]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, Soul is a farmer, Witch AU, and maka's still a witch, witch!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenaScarlet/pseuds/SerenaScarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if I decide to be single my whole life?”<br/>Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”<br/>“I could. More time for myself, no crying babies running around and killing themselves on my scythe. Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wheelbarrow'ed

He had just finished tying up his last bundle of hay when he heard a sharp crack of wind. Soul didn’t need to look up to see who had arrived, but he did so anyway. She had taken off her large black hat and was fanning herself, hair turned gold from the setting sunlight.

“Hey.”

“Hello, Soul Eater. Do you have a child yet?”

He frowned. “It’s only been three weeks since you’ve seen me last. Do you have any idea how reproduction works?”  
“Of course!” She puffed her cheeks, then took a breath to stall herself. “Alright then, a wife…or girlfriend, as you call it. How has that been going?”

“My love life is the same as last time, which is nothing. I told you, I don’t have time for your stupid pact thing. Go harass someone else.” He didn’t mean for the words to come out as harsh as they did, but he had just spent the full day chopping down food for his livestock and he was _exhausted._

She seemed unfazed. “Thought so; I’ve taken the liberty to gather intel on potential brides nearby.”

From her bag, she lifted out several sheets of parchment paper. From what Soul could see, they were marked corner to corner with dark green ink.

_Great._

She shuffled through, until a satisfied little smile graced her face. He just continued to stack the day’s labor into his wheelbarrow, and then started walking back to his cottage while she trailed behind him.

(With a wave of her hand, the wheelbarrow started pushing itself, so he quietly thanked her.)

“Marie Mjolnir?”

He gagged. “That old blacksmith? Are you kidding me?”

“According to my notes, she’s still of reproductive age—

“Yeah, and she could be my mother. Besides, I think she has a thing going on with the village doctor. No way.”

She pursed her lips and simply moved down the list.

“Crona…huh no last name…”

“Crazy. No chest.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a slim figure. I’m rather flat-chested myself,” she chastised, while glaring at him a bit. Whoops. This was the part where he said something cool to downplay the situation.

“Well, it’s still a chest.” He smirked.

Smooth, Soul. Smooth as corn oil.

She had decided to ignore that comment, for both of their sakes. They were approaching his back shed now, and all he could hear was that damn “shuffle shuffle” of parchment as she looked for another possible mate.

“What about Elizabeth or Patricia Thompson? They are both close to your age and body preferences. Either one of them look like they would be healthy mothers.”

He groaned. “I’ve known Liz and Patty since I was six. They’re a whole ‘nother brand of insane. Last time they came over to hang out, we ended up running away from the mayor’s stable in our underwear.”

She huffed and threw the papers rather strikingly at his feet. “Look, I’m trying to help you get a girl here. Are you trying to tell me that there is no one, _absolutely no one_ in this village that you would even consider?”

Soul always thought the witch looked the best when she was mad. Something about that concentrated fury that coiled her spine, her entire posture ready to attack. Even the air would prickle with the threat of magic.

Was there anyone he would consider?

_You, maybe._

He shrugged. “Maybe I haven’t met the right person yet.”

Maka crossed her arms and looked to the side.

“Well, knowing you without my help it would take you years—no _decades—_ to foster a child. So it looks like we’ll both need to work hard in the coming months. For our mutual benefit.”

When she was acting this cute, he couldn’t help but tease her.

“What if I decide to be single my whole life?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“I could. More time for myself, no crying babies running around and killing themselves on my scythe. Yeah, that sounds pretty good.”

He got the reaction he was hoping for.

“Soul you can’t just…” she threw her hands into the air with a cry of frustration. “Ugh! Don’t you know what this means to me?”

They had made it back to his front door now. The sky was already turning shades of navy blue.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dinner. You know, food you eat at night. I’m making potato leek soup.”

She was still peeved, he could tell, but honestly this was the most entertainment he had gotten all week and he wasn’t going to let her fly off that easily.

But the witch stood there, hands wringing the edge of her cloak.

“I mean—

“Maybe I’ll decide to settle down after we get some food.”

It was bait, Soul knew. But she took it, and he reeled her in.

She gave off one final steamed breath and opened his door before he could do it for her.

 “You better.”

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is consuming my soul…  
> Idk if it’s obvious or not, but Soul has a small farm. Basically a vegetable garden and some goats and sheep. He sells the wool/goats milk for whatever else he would need to survive. I’ve established how he got there, but I don’t think it’s relevant to the story so I might just write his background here in these author’s notes.


End file.
